


Direction

by waldorph



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Dom/sub, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-25
Updated: 2010-10-25
Packaged: 2017-10-12 21:13:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/129128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waldorph/pseuds/waldorph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You know how in 105 Steve was really good at taking direction?  Danny noticed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Direction

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Следуй за указателем](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7162829) by [cicada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cicada/pseuds/cicada)



> Okay for the record I wasn't gonna post this. I'm not sure it works and I feel vaguely like it's trying BUT. This happened:  
> leupagus: THAT WAS REALLY REALLY HOT  
> Come onnnnnn  
>  waldorph: eughhhhh  
>  leupagus: Let me post it then!  
>  waldorph: you are peer pressuring meeeeee  
>  leupagus: Please please pleeeeeeease  
> Yes I aaammmmmmmmmm  
> Shamelessleeeeeeeeeeee  
> waldorph: Imma write a fic: LEUPAGUS/PEER PRESSURE = OTP  
> leupagus: THAT IS LIKE THE TRUEST THING YOU'VE EVER SAID ABOUT ME  
> LEUPAGUS/DUBCON=OTP

He never told Danny. That's the part he keeps going over and over in his head: he never _told_ Danny. He doesn't know how Danny picked up on it―when the moment was that Danny decided that he was onto something, except.

The next morning Danny had leaned over his shoulder to put the coffee on to the table, mumbling a, "drink your coffee" into Steve's ear, so close Steve could feel Danny's breath hot against the shell of his ear. And Steve knows that Danny doesn't miss the shiver he never quite manages to suppress.

He's managed before―in combat or training, when there's just no _space_ , but never when someone's this close, speaking with _intent_.

He feels like a test subject because Danny's fucking relentless like a dog with a bone, and he's annoyed and snapping by the end of the week, bad guy caught and roughed up maybe more than he should be, even by Steve's standards. Danny grabs a handful of his shirt at the back, yanks it tight and snarls, low and hot, "Stop _now_."

And Steve's hands go slack and he leans back, just slightly, just enough, into Danny's grip, and all he can think is, _finally_.

Steve leans back against Danny (not too much, that stupid fucking ACL, and Danny's no one Steve ever expected to have to be _careful_ around―didn't think that this soon he'd get reminded that Danny is human and breakable).

"Book him," Danny tells Chin, who does, happily taking the guy off Steve's hands and sharing a look with Danny that maybe means _sort him the fuck out_.

"You've been such a miserable fucking shit, you know that?" Danny demands in that weirdly conversational tone he has. It's the one he uses when he really is annoyed, and Steve watches as Danny leans against the wall of the roof (what is it with them and _roofs_?), rubbing his thigh where his leg cramps up from using the cane. "All fucking week long, get down on your _knees_ for me."

And Steve's not sure he means it as a command but he's still wired as fuck, and Danny doesn't miss anything.

"You want it? Down right here on your knees, anyone gonna walk out? Some maid on a smoke break, walk out here and see you gagging on my dick, so fucking hungry for it?"

"Jesus, Danny," Steve groans.

"Maybe just have you get down there, show me how bad you want it before I let you suck it. You've been a real pain in the ass this week, 'm not sure you really deserve it, you know? You know what I'm saying, here, Steve? Hey. Hey. _Lookit me_."

Steve jerks his eyes up from Danny's dick, beginning to tent those stupid fucking pants he wears, up to his eyes except Danny has the fucking mirrored sunglasses on like the douche he is and―it's Hawaii and hot as fuck out and that's why his mouth is dry and he can't catch his breath.

That's it.

"Get over here, kneel down right there."

And the thing is, there's no hint in Danny's voice that he's even entertaining the idea that Steve _won't_ do exactly what he says. And so Steve does, drops to his knees and lets Danny guide his face to Danny's crotch, breathes in and brushes dry lips along the swell of his dick, careful the way you learn to be with DADT hanging over your head. God, he wants. _Wants_ to unzip Danny's fly, pull his briefs down and suck Danny's cock, choke himself on it until Danny's coming, and Steve doesn't know whether he wants it on his face or down his throat―doesn't know how _Danny_ will want it.

He lets Danny guide his head, and then Danny says, "Take me out."

Steve does, careful, takes Danny out of his pants and then forces himself still, forces himself not to lean forward and swallow it down. Makes himself still, and the Danny says,

"Go ahead. No hands."

And Steve just goes for it, doesn't look up because Danny might change his mind; might want to fuck with Steve and Steve wants too much, is too hot for it. He sucks the head, pumps his mouth up and down, lips carefully wrapped over his teeth and Danny's dick perfect on his tongue, stretching his lips a little―Danny's thicker than Steve's used to, a mouthful and God, so good. He tries to figure out what makes Danny tick, presses his tongue to the underside, pulls off and mouths his way along the vein on the bottom, tongues the slit and works the head, and Danny, that absolute bastard, just stays quiet.

Not perfectly quiet, Steve can hear hitches of breath, but he'd always figured Danny would be a talker during sex. It's hotter that he isn't, and true to form: Danny won't give Steve anything easily.

Danny likes a little scrape of teeth, likes when Steve fucks his throat with Danny's cock. _Really_ likes it when Steve chokes, just a little, drool and precome dripping thick down his chin and forces himself further down until he can barely breathe, whole body in revolt.

"Finish me," Danny says, finally, and Steve does, presses his face into the curls at the base of Danny's dick and tongues his balls, pulls off and slides right back down, faster until he's somewhere near lightheaded, putting his SEAL training to good use as he stays down longer and longer, until Danny's coming, hot and thick down his throat, some of it swelling out and dripping down Steve's face. He swallows, wipes his face and licks his fingers clean, eyes fastened on Danny's flushed face. Leans back down and cleans Danny's dick off, careful not to tease, and then Danny's pulling back, just enough, tucking himself back in and shuddering a little as he does.

Steve reaches down to adjust himself, maybe press the heel of his palm into his dick and make his erection go down a little; jerk off and come on the concrete―it won't be _comfortable_ but it will―

"Don't touch that," Danny says, voice a rough drag that makes Steve shudder and dig his fingers into his thighs before standing up. "Get in the car, we're going to your place."

Steve's not fucked yet, but he's going to be. His dick is hard and almost painful―fuck it, it is painful, pressed against the unforgiving cut of his jeans and his zipper. But he gets into the car and drives them to his place, follows Danny inside and thinks _yes_ and _finally_ and _please_ as Danny lays out what Steve wants in blistering detail and then _gives it to him_.


End file.
